


Choose Me Instead

by ReadItandWeepFics



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Nudity, Slight Smut, fight injuries, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadItandWeepFics/pseuds/ReadItandWeepFics
Summary: Taking place shortly after CW, the reader and Steve grow close as neighbors, but the reader doesn’t know who he is really. After an emotionally charged episode, will the truth of his identity make or break the future of their relationship.





	Choose Me Instead

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all ready for touch-starved Steve?? This is probably complete trash because I could make up my damn mind how things should go. It started out super smutty, then went super fluffy, and then super angsty. Ultimately ending as a mixture of all of it? Whelp. I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Soundtrack: “Instead” - Ryan Amador

The rain falls steadily outside, making soft pattering sounds on the window panes as you grab you bag and begin to head out the door. You backtrack to the coat closet, almost forgetting an umbrella. Most people would find a day like this dreary and depressing, but it soothes you. The peace and calm are what was missing in your life lately.

You step out of your apartment, closing and locking it before looking up across the hall. You shriek, tripping over your feet and bumping against your now closed door. You clasp a hand to your chest feeling your heart race from your fright. There, slumped against his door frame, stood one very haggard looking Steve.

“You scared the hell out of me –“ you walk over and bend down to peer into his face. You gasp.

“Oh my god, Steve! What happened?!” 

He looks like hell. Bruises mottle his face. A split cheek and lip match the gash across the bridge of his nose. His eyes flutter open and it takes him a moment to register your face. He sucks in a breath and raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh hey, Y/N. I dropped my keys and… I was just too lazy to pick them up.” He says tiredly, fingers wriggling towards the ground.

You scoop up the keys. “I wasn’t talking about that! What on earth happened to your face?”

He shrugs, and it seems that’s all the response you’re going to get from him. You bite your tongue to keep your ire in check. You open the door and help a wobbling Steve into his apartment. He’s nearly dead on his feet. Steve sways a little as you stop him so you can peel off his leather jacket. As soon as it’s passed his broad shoulders you gasp again. Blood soaked through the fabric of his T-shirt, clinging to his body.

“Jesus, Steve! You shouldn’t be here, you should be in a hospital!” You reach into your jacket pocket, pulling out your cell to call 9-1-1.

Steve closes his hand around yours to stop your dialing. You glance up, confused.

“There’s no need, it’s not that bad.” He turns and slowly limps into the kitchen, hauling a chair away from the dining table.

He throws a leg over it and sits, resting his head against his arms on the chair back. You continue to stare at him, bewildered.

“Not that bad? You’re bleeding through you shirt! We need to – “ You stop when he shakes his head.

“It’ll be fine, I promise.” He mumbles.

You bite the inside of your cheek. The heavy weight of disappointment and hurt settling in your chest. He’s hiding something; you could sense it. 

“At least let me get a look and clean it up.” You say quietly, making your way to stand behind him.

You carefully lift the soiled shirt, but the blood is caked and dried in areas. The fabric pulls at his skin and wounds, making Steve hiss through his teeth. You release the hem of the shirt. You walk into the kitchen and rummage through the drawers. After the third drawer you find a couple dish towels. Some more digging around and you come back with a bowlful of warm water.

You dip the towels into it, soaking them and gently placing them on Steve’s back.

“I need to let it soak so we can get your shirt off. How long were you just standing out in the hallway?” You ask him.

He shrugs once more. You want to scream but you turn and head out the door. Collecting your things, you drop them just inside Steve’s apartment and close the two of you in. Silently you come back and smooth a hand over the towels, removing one to wring out and soak again. Neither of you speaks, and the awkward tension grows.

“How’s Chad?” Steve finally breaks the silence while you strip off the towels.

You pause, unsure if now would be a good time for this conversation. You resume slowly peeling up his now wet shirt, carefully picking apart cotton cloth from open wounds.

“He’s gone.” You say curtly.

“When’s he getting back?”

“He’s not coming back. He’s gone.” You snap a little. That got Steve’s attention. He raises his head slightly and cants it toward you.

“I thought you were…”

“You thought wrong. You would have known that if you had stopped and let me explain. Instead you storm off to god knows where for three weeks and come back looking like you got in a fight with a wood chipper, and the wood chipper won!” You rush through the last part in one breath, yanking a little too hard on the soggy material to punctuate the end.

Steve winces and a stab of guilt pierces your heart. “Sorry..” you mumble. Steve sits up long enough for you to pull the shirt over his head. You rinse out a towel and dab at the wounds; he was right, they weren’t as bad as you first thought.

The truth was that you’d missed him. The deep, bone-aching, kind of longing. You didn’t realize how much you’d grown to care for Steve until he’d chosen to leave. All because of a misunderstanding. 

Chad had never been good to you, but the one good thing that relationship had brought you was Steve. Missed and cancelled dates turned into impromptu outings with Steve. You felt heard and valued when you spent time with him.

You closed your eyes, that horrible memory replaying unbidden behind your lids. Chad kneeling in front of you, ring box in hand, begging you to take him back. Steve walking in on the scene. The mistrust and hurt that filled his eyes still made you want to cry. He’d turned and walked out the door without a word. You prying yourself out of Chad’s grasp, chasing after Steve. You could still feel your throat closing as you held back tears, pleading with him to stop and listen to you. You’d chased him all the way out onto the street but you couldn’t keep up.

You’d waited days for him to return to his apartment across from yours. After a certain point, though, you thought he’d never come back. Anger replaced sorrow. You couldn’t believe he’d think so little of you to suppose you’d accept Chad’s half-assed proposal. Especially when he’d just confessed how he was feeling towards you.

The more you puzzled over it you’d thought that maybe it’d been an out Steve was looking for. He’d skirt around questions about his job and the phone calls he’d take, much like Chad did. You’d wanted to return those feelings but you didn’t want to jump into another secretive relationship. You’d had enough of that for a lifetime. Steve was keeping something from you and if he couldn’t be open about it, then maybe it was better he’d been trying to cut ties.

Steve reaches behind himself, searching blindly for your hand. You aid him by wrapping your fingers around his. He gently tugs and you let him pull you onto his left knee. You glance up into his battered face, his eyes searching yours.

“So you aren’t… engaged to him?” He asks earnestly.

You shake your head, fighting bravely not to cry. “I never would have accepted him.”

Steve draws you closer into a clumsy tangle of limps. He presses his face into the nape of your neck.

“I’m sorry, I just assumed…” he trails off, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Yeah well, this coming from the guy who admitted to me what he assumed ‘fondue’ meant.” You tease.

Steve laughs weakly. You smile and reach up to touch his cheek, but let your hand fall to your lap. You pull back enough that Steve lifts his head and gazes into your eyes.

“I want to be with you Steve, but I don’t want another relationship built on lies. What aren’t you telling me?” You ask softly.

His eyes roam your face as if he’s trying to memorize your features. He drops his hand resting on top of your thigh.

“The closet in the bedroom. There’s a loose panel on the back wall.” He says quietly, leaning his head back down against the chair back.

You slowly get up off his leg, staring at the back of his head in befuddlement. Walking into the room you pause in front of the closet. Apprehension for what you’d find gnaws away at your stomach. You pull open the door. The closet is mostly bare. A few shirts, a pair of pants, and a couple pairs of shoes on the floor are all that inhabit it. You kneel down and push aside a pair of tennis shoes. Crawling in you run your hand along the back wall, feeling for the loose panel. Your fingers brush along the seam and you push, popping it open. 

Setting the panel aside you carefully reach into the darkness. Your hand rests on something made of thick cloth, a little coarse to the touch. You lift it out, a small thud sounding when it’s shifted. In your hands is a worn and tattered uniform in the shades of blue, red, and white, though the colors are mostly covered in dirt and grime.

You reach back into the space and feel around for the object that dropped. A cool, hard, angular surface meets your touch. A light, metallic star comes up when you lift it out. Ripped fabric clings to each point of the star. You stare at the two pieces as realization dawns on you. 

Steve hadn’t moved from his spot as you walk back out with your findings. His back still looked raw and traces of blood still lingered. 

“You… you’re Captain America.” You had meant it as a question, but with the evidence in your hands it came out as a statement.

Steve scoffs, “I think you mean I was Captain America. I don’t carry that title anymore.” 

You say nothing. Steve lifts his head and shifts his body out towards you, a sad expression on his face.

“Now you know. So tell me, is this okay? Can you still be with a war criminal? Someone the world has told you to despise?” He grins at you morosely.

Without another thought you drop the items, the star clattering against the wood floor, and purposely march towards him. When you reach him you sling your leg over his thighs, straddling him. On instinct, Steve grips you hips and pulls you closer as you slant your mouth over his, kissing him fully.

Your hands graze over the skin of his neck, threading your fingers into his hair. You kiss each other greedily, teeth clashing. Tasting one another. Steve pulls back and the two of you catch your breath. He presses his forehead against yours. You lean into the chair back, bringing him with you. It’s quiet save only for the rhythm of the rain falling outside.

“I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t drag you into all this.” Steve murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Why?” You whisper back. His clear blue eyes bear into yours.

“Because it’s nothing but chaos. You’re not equipped to handle it. I’ll just break you. I’ve already stayed in this place too long…” Panic enters his voice as he continues. 

You kiss him gently to silence him. When you pull back there is still a frightened look to him but he says nothing. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.

“You asked me to choose you before you left. I did. Now I’m asking you to choose me. Choose this moment. Stay here and be with me. At least for now, until there’s no time left.” You add the last part begrudgingly. You know when it comes down to it, it’ll be the hardest battle to fight.

He stares at you another minute then nods, pulling you in again and kissing you like it’s his last gasp for air. After another long minute you break away again, panting.

“So, are you going to tell me how you got these now?” You prod, sliding a finger along a wound that crossed his rib towards his back. He chuckles.

“Ah, I picked a fight with some bad guys. I needed to punch someone. Felt like the right way to go.” 

“They must have been pretty strong if you were left with these injuries.” You muse. He laughs again, shaking his head.

“I… may have let them get in a few swings or two.” He concedes.

That sobers the mood a bit. You lean in, carefully wrapping yourself around him. “If you had just let me explain you wouldn’t have had to fight anyone.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He says. Steve returns the embrace, holding a little tighter than necessary. You don’t complain.

Steve plays with the hair draped down your back. His other hand trails along your stocking-clad thigh, to where your dress skirt is bunched. You halt his hand.

“Steve, as much as I want you, I don’t think we should be having sex with your injuries as they are.” You say into his shoulder, contradicting your words with a peck to his neck.

You pull back to look into his face. A sheepish grin is plastered over it. A slight pink tint spreads to his cheeks.

“I wasn’t really thinking of that, though I will want to have you later. I just need to touch you. I need to be close to you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

You consider this a moment then slip your dress up and over your head. He slides you closer and you close your legs around his back as he lifts you up out of the chair. He slowly makes his way to the bedroom, unclasping your bra. You slide it down your arms and press close to his bare skin. You both shudder, craving the tactile connection.

Steve nudges the door open with his foot, delicately placing you atop the bed. You shimmy out of your stockings while Steve scrambles out of his shoes and pants. He helps you pull the covers back and climbs underneath with you, naked with the exception of your underwear. He hauls you closer, entangling your arms and legs until there’s not a space between the two of you.

That’s how you spend the next hour. Feeling one another, kissing every inch you could reach, savoring the intimacy of just holding someone you love. Soon Steve falls asleep, exhausted from his injuries. He breathes softly against your chest, still clinging tightly to you. You stay awake, occasionally brushing your face into his hair. 

For now you’ll safeguard him, protected in this small corner of the universe. You wanted to hold onto this moment; embed it in your memory. For if the time came, when the time came, you just hoped you could still choose each other again.


End file.
